


Stalling Expulsion (No Ship)

by jefferoni (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: For Hamilton holiday calendar, Hamilton - Freeform, Hamilton: An American Musical - Freeform, Hamilton: The Musical, Oneshot, Other, Tumblr made me, no ships, why did I do this?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21779635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jefferoni
Summary: On Tumblr I’m taking part in the Hamilton Holiday Calendar and.... this is my thing!-Boarding school AU-Alexander, John, Lafayette, Hercules, James and Thomas share why they were expelled from public school and sent to the one they’re at.Arguments spark, but it calms down. Somehow, they come together and become friends of sorts.
Relationships: None
Kudos: 31





	Stalling Expulsion (No Ship)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelovelymadone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelovelymadone/gifts), [because they’re my friend](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=because+they%E2%80%99re+my+friend).



> On Tumblr I’m taking part in the Hamilton Holiday Calendar and.... this is my thing!

Whistled tones whipped down the halls of the large country boarding school, as wind teased the maroon common room curtains through extravagant glass windows. Crumpled currant toned bed drapes lined the circular boys dormitory, and the posts hung bed curtains which were open and crinkled. Clothes lay strewn across the old hickory wood floors, a mix of old socks, pyjama pants and unwanted shoes. The whole school had gathered in the great hall for breakfast, all but four. They were huddled in the dormitory bathroom, slinking around waiting for first class.

The eldest being sixteen years old, tall and broad, yet far from the most responsible. The youngest was a lanky French boy, who had recently become fifteen. The other two were also fifteen, but one not far off his sweetest sixteen. None of which were very responsible when it came to fun. Smarts, well, you may suppose they contained some sort of brain-cell. Although it appeared to bounce around their head like a DVD screensaver. You may even conclude, that the four shared a brain-cell, taking single turns on it like small children sharing a piano. 

The oldest of them all was the one whistling, he was tweeting a soft tune, one that seems to be without meaning or purpose, but instead one you may subconsciously commit yourself to when bored. 

Smallest of them, a boy who had his fifteenth a simple month before, tightened his ponytail and swiped a sniffle from his nose. Perhaps skipping breakfast in favour of hanging around like a gang of uneducated delinquents wasn't their best plan, but at the very least they had learned not to do it again. Not that he ever planned to admit his wrong doing.

One boy, who bore a curled ponytail that hung low, sat on a sink, his back against the wall and his feet in the porcelain bowl of it. He piped up with a skip in his voice, "why did we skip morning meal again?" He inquired in his distinct North-Carolinian accent, as his stomach growled angrily at him. He was missing out on his wake up food of three slices of buttered toast and a pile of breakfast potatoes and his body was not overjoyed.

"Because we don't want to be around Jefferson, Jackie," the smallest replied, sinking down. Jackie was not the boys birth name, but instead a curious nickname gifted to him by his closest of friends. The boy who has spoken had his back pressed against the wall, and he crossed his legs as he sat.

"You know," the French boy started, "I don't really see the problem you all 'ave with Thomas," he shrugged and continued leaning against a stall. 

The whistling abruptly came to a close, and all heads turned to look at him. "Dude, he's horrible," the eldest started, "like, do you see the way he acts around Alex? He treats him like some sort of dirty scum he found on the bottom of his polished boots." 

"The reason he hates me is even worse! Just because I don't have rich parents to go crawling back to for Christmas. He acts like I'm a dirty spot that he doesn't want to touch. Like... Like I'm food at the bottom of the sink, ya know!" Alexander explained, gesticulating as he did so. John, the student who had been nicknamed 'Jackie', leapt from his resting place in the washing basin and patted Alexander on the back gently in a friendly attempt to calm him down. "Sorry for yelling, Laf... It's just... He bugs me so much."

Lafayette shrugged his shoulders, his wine red blazer - part of his uniform forming creases as he did. "I mean, he's targeting you because you're an orphan, non?" Alexander nodded as a silent agreement and response, "well, 'e doesn't know that I am too."

"I completely forgot about that, Laf!" The broad-shouldered, tall boy examined a little too loudly. He found himself being bombarded by rushed hushing. "Sorry, guys," he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. 

Lafayette rolled his eyes. "Stop apologising, 'Ercules, we know you mean no 'arm," he assured and patted Hercules' shoulder.

"If I meant no harm, then why am I here?" Hercules sighed and shrunk into himself. The other three went quiet, they couldn't answer.

The boarding school was technically called, 'Fredrick's School for Troubled Teens and Youngsters,' but everyone just called it, 'School for Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks.'

Everyone who attended had been removed from public school for one preposterous thing or another. An assortment, ranging from fights to skipping school to just becoming a general nuisance.

Hercules Mulligan had been previously expelled from three schools, for fighting three people and hospitalising two of them. His reputation was ruthless and cutthroat, not afraid to start an attack at any moment. However, he was simply a big softy. 

Alexander Hamilton had been ostracised from his school for arguing with the professor, who promptly frog-marched him to the head master, to whom he fought against once more. He was told to leave and not come back after referring to his head master as, "a pompous fool, detecting the frivolous minds of easy moldable youngsters to bend them to his will."

John Laurens was excommunicated from Church, and from his very Catholic school when they discovered his homosexuality. His father had disowned him from home and sent him off to the 'School for Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks,' in the hopes that it would, "return him to his Godly roots and strip him of his male desires for other men." His father, Henry Laurens had accepted the concept that sending him to a school where he would spend 99% of his time with guys and had imagined that it would 'fix' his brain into lusting over women.

And then there was Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Mortier, Marquis de Lafayette. His exclusion was a momentous occasion. His head mistress had discovered the acute, shimmering pocket knife in his satchel, after demanding a look as another child had accused him of threatening him with said weapon. The child had ridiculed his younger brother who had sadly passed away just mere weeks before. So yes, maybe he should've been thrown out of school for that. He goes back and forth, contemplating if what he did was incredibly illegal or, in fact, the right thing to do.

The four knew fine well why the other people were tossed from school, however, no one else knew anything about no one. Asking why another person was attending the boarding fortress was distinctly taboo. Like a horrid, violent invasion of protected privacy. Only if the student felt astonishingly close to you, and trusted you with their life and prized possession would they ever confine in you the reason they attended Fredrick's. 

Another point, everyone came from privileged backgrounds, that were somehow ruined. Lafayette had rich parents before they died, and then he had a rich uncle. Then he was rich. John’s parents had piles of money, and then they disowned him. Alexander was fairly middle class, and then their debt skyrocketed when his father abandoned him and his mother passed in his arms. And then there was Hercules. The other three spoke much more articulated than him. He just simply couldn’t. He wasn’t from a bad family, but they most certainly weren’t the most educated they could be.

"Listen, Herc," Alexander inexorably spoke up, offering comfort, "we're all here for one reason or another! I called my professor a sithering idiot, and them the head master a pompous fool, John's gay and Laf, hell, Lafayette threatened someone's life. Lets be honest, we all deserve to be here," he peered up at Laurens, who had retaken his position of roosting on the sink, "apart from Jackie, obviously."

John defended himself and chortled. "Hey, I'm not complaining. Before I had to listen to homophobic slurs all day, now, I can simply be a homo every hour."

Hercules' solid frown tweaked, and he turned to laughter. "Okay, okay, fair enough," He lifted his arms up before slumping them down, "you got me."

"Yeah we did," Lafayette nudged Hercules harshly, which earned him a shove back.

-

His toast lay burnt and uneaten, and half a sausage rolled around his plate depressingly. A metal fork was lazily tossed by his tray, and the red paper napkin was scrunched up on his plate. His seat was barren now, as was the one across from him.

Reticent nattering echoed all over the spiral staircase as two boys clambered upwards towards their shared dorm. Their room was home to eight boys, all of which they both hated, except for each other and one pupil, a young male Aaron Burr from New Jersey. 

Thomas pushed the oak dormitory door open with a dig. He went on speaking, but was silenced by his friend flapping his hand in front of his face. "James-"

"Shush! Can't you hear that?" James spoke, "there's people here..."

Muffled exclamations voiced themselves from behind the bathroom gateway. Thomas crept over and pressed his ear up to the carved antique door as every ounce of his sixteen year old attention span focusesd in on eavesdropping. 

There was a blast of flat laughter that exploded from the room, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are they saying?” James breathed serenely as he watched Thomas run his fingers over the door handle.

“Quiet, Jemmy,” Thomas instructed in a low voice, “they’re talking now.”

A despicably mocking articulation voiced itself from beyond the door. “Oh yes, I mustn’t! For I shall mess us my sheep’s wool hair! No! Do not touch that! It was sent to me from a Gucci store from my father!” It was in a false Southern accent.

“Holy crap, Laf! I don’t like how much that sounds like him!” The familiar boisterous tones of Hercules Mulligan exploded out the cracks in the door. “Okay, okay, John your shot.”

He heard the rambunctious crackling of knuckles, and a clearing of throats. “Hello, y’all! Rootin’ tootin’! I’m from the fucking South where the grass grows green and I’m better than y’all! Because I’m Jefferson, and I hate you if you don’t have a rich father!” 

James, who had been tuned in to the harmful conversations past the door, soared upwards towards him. “Tommy, don’t-“ he muttered harshly. James had been friends with Thomas since the very beginning, he had been there to witness every hardship and every tantalising moment where the world stopped spinning. He was by the teens side throughout each adversity, and would comfort his best friend without exception. 

Yet Thomas didn’t listen. He shoved the door open unceremoniously, the sheer force blowing a gust towards the bed drapes. His stance remained strong and rigid as four pairs of brown and hazel sprinkled eyes darted towards him. With the pupils that burned into his skull, from both in front of him, and James who had settled behind him, Thomas composed himself. He ran a hand through his hair before taking it upon himself to stride back to his bed. 

His lips remained stuck together as if to be two birds of a single feather. Alexander looks at his friends, and they rise from their resting places, stiff joints cracking like grandmas getting up from their nap in an armchair. Their stomachs rumble hungrily, screaming for nutrients, but they push past it to ignore it. James looks back at his accomplice, who is rummaging through a antiquated, walnut duffle-bag. He can see Thomas’ look of determination as he pulls his hand from the storage unit and wanders back to the bathroom, past the gang who was previously been loitering in the room. In his hand, is a egg-shell painted cardboard packet of sorts, and a rectangular glass lighter. The lighter is black as a cold winters night, and Thomas carries these into the bathroom with him.

“Thomas!” James exclaimed as he spotted the two items. One of the many reasons Thomas was at the boarding school. The bathroom door slammed closed and the all too familiar sound of a clicking lighter. 

The four friends glance at each other, sharing a mutual moment of what the hell is happening, as James pounds on the oak door. “Thomas, I swear to god, open the door. I won’t let you do this again!”

“What’s going on?” Alexander hissed from the corner of his mouth. His dashing attempt to be inaudibly failed, as a result of his naturally vociferous voice it failed. Madison’s head rotated to face the not-so-fantastic four with a choleric grimace. 

Lafayette opened his mouth to begin explaining, yet no words escaped. Only a brief swept of breath as he fidgeted with his own fingers, bending them in ways that really shouldn’t be possible.

“Why were you talking about him?” James spoke softly, as if the delinquents were toddlers who needed to be lulled off into slumber. 

Alexander shifted on his heels. Why this small student was so intimidating fascinated him. James was always a perpetually timid youngster. Someone who sat at the very back of the class, head constantly bent down over his work, hunched and tired. Yet now, his eyes glimmered with rage and every inch of his body shook with unsheathed emotional torment. 

“We-“ Alexander started with confidence, but trailed off quickly into inaudible - protecting himself - mumbling. 

James rattles his knuckles off the door again. "I won't let you get expelled from another school!" He exhaled and fiddled with the handle. "Just, open the door... We can talk about this." He grovelled desperately. The door handle moved, and Thomas deliberated from behind the gateway. As the wood cracked open, James spread into a grin.

Thomas exhaled smoke downwards, blowing it down to the very depths of hell. "What?"

"You're smoking," John observed with a light shudder. He planted himself on Alexanders bed, tugging at the wrinkled sheets and grasping for the cream pillow, for the scarlet cover of the cushion had been stripped from it, and thrown somewhere across the room, it had been missing for days. Alex theorised that Thomas had disposed of it out the window, or in a garbage can in the main courtyard. Either way, Alexander and the students residing within that dormitory were lucky that a staff member hadn't inspected their room just yet. If it was found that articles of bedding had been cascaded like dirty wash paper then a worthy punishment would be awarded. 

“Am I?!” Thomas took the lot cigarette away from his lips and glared at it. His eyes narrowed, “am I really!?”

“Yo, there’s no need to talk to him like that!” Hercules piped up with a stare. “He didn’t do nothin’ to you,” he spat.

Thomas rolled his eyes and took another quick puff of the cigarette before disposing of it in a sink, and running the cold water tap. “Yeah, he said nothing sure.”

“Stop,” Alexander insisted, beginning to rise. He observes as Thomas struts into the dorm and throws his cigarettes packet and lighter onto his bed, before dropping down on James'. 

Lafayette hastily crept over to beside Thomas and sighed. "My apologies, Thomas," he confessed, "it was wrong of us to... Eh.... Talk bad about you." He stumbled over his words, a bit like a newborn calf taking its first wobbly steps. 

"I'm like, 99.99% sure smoking really breaks school guidelines," Hercules chimed in, twittering away in the congregated background. 

"Yeah? Why else do you think I'm here? Because I want to be?" Thomas jeered, messing with his hair absentmindedly. 

"Well, because your family bathes in pots of melted gold and dines on silver platters served by their monkey butler," Alexander prompted immediately, the words sliding off his tongue like venom before he could halt them. 

Thomas and James scoffed in unison. "I'm here because I was expelled for drug use," the jaws fell to the old floors, "weed, mostly. Over the counter painkillers and anti depressants. That sort of stuff, ya know?" He shrugged, so nonchalantly.

“Drugs?!” John exclaimed in utter shock. “How did you even get a hold of them?!”

“Well,” Thomas gridlocked in his tracks, hitting the breaks on his brain, “why am I telling you this?” He sneered at himself, fanning his face in his own stupidity.

“Because... you want someone else to trust?” James mumbled, “other than me...” 

Thomas’ face fell and he grit his teeth in annoyance as he came to terms with James’ unsettling words. He ran a tattered hand through his mop of sheep's wool. He remained mute and simply made a random hand gesture. 

“James,” Hercules breathed and was quiet for one of the first time ever. Or ever since the others had met him, “why’d you get sent here? What’s the deal?” They all gasped, the taboo had been broken, and Hercules graced his eyes around the room, his pupils widening with terror. “Wait, no! I didn’t- it’s... it’s just, you don’t seem like the person to be sent to Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks school.” 

Madison blinked rapidly in thought. “No, no, it’s fine...” he took a large inhale, “I was bullied a lot... and one day I just... flipped. I attacked them when they followed me to class through the halls. The kid got away with a slap on the wrist and I was expelled. Then sent here...” 

“Yeah, just after I was expelled, James came after me. Missed me that much?” Thomas chortled, stretching his arms and for just a moment, his arms and head placement made him look vaguely like a cactus in the dry Arizona sun. 

“Not really, class was much quieter. I did lose my only protection though, because someone decided to get high on marijuana in the boys bathroom!” James really emphasised each syllable of the word, ‘someone.’

Thomas frowned lamentably. His sighs echoed around the room. “In fairness!” He stopped, “I actually can’t justify it. I was just being stupid and impulsive okay?”

Alexander cackled away loudly in the back before taking enough initiative to muffle it with his hand. 

“Oh you can’t laugh, ‘amilton! You swore your professor out!” Lafayette teased with a snicker and Hercules let out a soft, ‘ohhh!’ punctuating Lafayette’s words. 

“Yeah? And you whipped a knife on someone!” Alexander yelled back playfully. Hercules continued to laugh.

“Oh, shut up, ‘Erc! You can’t say anything! Two people in ‘ospital who?” Lafayette jerked, progressively getting himself more and more worked up. His cheeks were glowing a lipstick red and his eyes darkened with fury.

“‘Two people in hospital, who?’” Hercules mocked in a false French accent. It was awfully stereotypical, and fake as hell. But it annoyed Lafayette to the point where he leapt from his bed and pointed pressingly in his best friends direction.

“Lay off!” John jumped up and separated the two with his arms. “Okay! We all did things wrong, like... I disappointed god!” John beamed with a singsong voice, pleading to cheer those up. 

“Disappointed god?” Thomas questioned pressingly, his voice ripe with curiosity. 

“I was kicked from Catholic school for my ‘deadly homosexuality that could infect others’.” John chortled and moved away from Lafayette and Hercules, adjusting to the fact that the tension in the room was still thick enough to be sliced with a knife. 

“Oh damn,” James whispered mistily to himself, scratching at a scab in his forehead, located just about his right ear. 

Alexander rolled his eyes. “Oh no! I’ve been infected by the gay!” He yelled and Thomas exploded with laughter. It made Alex smile, and realise that Thomas, in fact, had a nice, boisterous chuckle. 

“You can’t pray away the gay,” Hercules spoke in his often loud voice, smirking for the world to see once more. 

“We can sure as hell try!” Lafayette knelt on his bed and placed his hands in a prayer motion. “Be gone, homo!” 

John fell backwards dramatically and flopped to the floor. His hand touched his forehead as if fainted. 

Alex snorted. 

The dormitory door clanged with the pound of a fist. “Get to class, boys!” The familiar booming and authoritative tone of Head Master Washington exploded into the dorm.

“Sorry, Mr Washington!” Alexander apologises with a grit of his teeth. 

“Suck up,” Thomas mouths and stands, leaving with James hot on his polished heels.

Lafayette stood and nodded towards the ajar door. “Wanna go hang in the courtyard?”

“And risk getting detention?” Hercules scoffed, “obviously.”

“Let’s fucking go!” John exclaimed, picking up his boots and shoving them on his feet. 

From the slightly open door they could hear a yell. “Thomas, I swear to god!” And then the muffled reply, ‘what? She despises both of us, let’s just hang out in the courtyard!’

“Sounds like someone else is thinking about skiving class!” Lafayette sniggered, hoisting the door wide open and heading out. “Coming?” Hercules nodded and rushed after him.

Alexander stuck his fist in the air and clapped. “Anything to skip Mrs Reynolds class!”And they ran down the stairs, leaping down the stairs two or three at a time. It was dangerous.

And they loved it.


End file.
